To Have And To Hold
by JestersTear
Summary: After the war, despite Dumbledore's exonerating Pensieve, the Wizengamot prepares to work around it and sentence Severus to Azkaban. Hermione, however, is ready to do whatever it takes to see that justice is served… including marrying the Potions Master.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the Potter-verse, which belongs to J. K. Rowling, and am not making a profit out of this. This disclaimer covers all chapters.

**To Have And To Hold**

**Chapter One – Desperate Measures**

Sitting in a damp cell in Azkaban prison, Severus Snape considered the ironies of fate. He had murdered the man who had been like a father to him, at his own request; he had committed unspeakable acts in his service to the Light, and Voldemort had praised him for it. Now his mission was complete, and all of wizarding Britain could heave a collective sigh of relief and get on with its life. He, on the other hand, had no life to return to: his mentor was dead, he had no true friends, and teaching was something he abhorred doing; the Wizengamot was, even as he sat there, plotting a way to altogether ignore the Pensieve Albus had left behind exonerating him. Nothing good awaited him tomorrow when the sentence was read. And yet, irony of ironies, Dementors could still affect him as if he had led the happiest of lives.

Somewhere in Hell, he knew, Voldemort was laughing.

---

Hermione Granger went once again through her notes, trying to find some other solution to the problem at hand, but knowing in advance that there was none to be found. Minerva had just informed the members of the Order that Severus Snape's fate had already been decided. Although the sentence would only be read, and thus rendered official, the following day, the Wizengamot had finally reached a unanimous verdict that appeased their discomfort over Severus' continued existence. Albus' Pensieve had made sure that both the Kiss and Azkaban were ruled out completely; on top of that, Rufus Scrimgeour was an intelligent man who knew that, while the public wanted Severus Snape's head on a platter, they also wanted Dumbledore's wishes heeded. It was thus that he came to the conclusion that a sentence of five years of house arrest would appeal to those wanting to respect the late Headmaster's will, while a recently passed law – which Scrimgeour himself had drafted, and that stated that any such sentenced witch or wizard with no remaining living relatives would be deemed a flight risk, and would thus have to be remanded to Azkaban as living alone would put "an unnecessary strain on Ministry resources" – would quench the public's thirst for revenge. Five years in a Dementor-infested Azkaban would serve Snape right for all that he had done, the Minister believed. Even if it had been in service to the Light, and even if he had been instrumental in bringing about the fall of He-Who-Could-Now-Be-Named-But-Still-Wasn't. According to Minerva's inside source, the sentence was already written down in magical ink, and would be read in fourteen hours' time.

Could she really do this, Hermione wondered. Yes, she could. She had worked on his defence for two and a half years, and she considered him a friend. She cared for him in a way that, although different, was almost as fierce as what she felt for her two best friends. Hermione pocketed two potions and headed to Azkaban prison. She could pull this off.

---

Severus was staring off into a darker spot on the wall when she walked into his cell. She seemed more nervous than usual, which could only mean she knew something he didn't. He acknowledged her presence with a curt, "Miss Granger".

"Sir. Professor McGonagall's source informed her that your sentence is already written down. It will be read tomorrow."

"And what, pray tell, have they decided to do with me, Miss Granger?"

"Five years of house arrest."

He laughed harshly, a mirthless sound that chilled her to the bones. "Say no more, Miss Granger, it's a life sentence. As I have no living relatives, they will keep me here, and, once in their full custody, it will be very simple to keep adding years to my time for supposed transgressions. My hat is off to them; they should all have been sorted into Slytherin."

Hermione crouched in front of him, unwilling to sit on the dirty floor. Whereas he had been thin when he had first been imprisoned, he now had barely any flesh left beneath his skin with which to cover his bones. He wouldn't last another year in Azkaban, let alone five. She prayed silently to the Gods above for courage, then took his hand in hers.

"I'm not sure you know this, sir, but I consider you a friend. I have come to care for you, and I can't bear..." Her voice faltered as she tried to swallow her tears and failed. "I can't bear the thought of what they will do to you after the trial."

Severus was surprised, to say the least. He hadn't known he _had_ a friend – had always thought she viewed him as another one of her causes, in the same league as house-elves – and it touched him to see her tears were meant for him. Someone would mourn his passing, then. Hermione. His friend. He covered her hands with the one she hadn't taken.

"I didn't know. Thank you, Miss Granger, your friendship is... appreciated. Don't worry over me; your defence was more than adequate. There was nothing else you could have done."

"But there is now," she sobbed, "there is now, and I'm afraid you won't let me help you, and, if you don't, I will never forgive myself for not having managed to convince you. Never, never, never, never forgive myself."

Now he was astonished. "Miss Granger, surely you know I would not refuse any help from you. I haven't refused it for the past two and a half years, and I will gladly accept it now if you have devised any means to extricate me from this fate."

Hermione looked at him through her tears. This was hardly what she had planned; she had wanted to come across as the mature, composed 24-year-old young woman she knew she could be, but, seeing him here, impossibly thin, starved in a damp cell, and knowing she might fail to save him, she felt it was too much to contemplate. She steeled her resolve and let the words out in a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Marry me."

---

For a few seconds Severus thought he had finally succumbed to Dementor-induced madness. Her words hung in the air, too palpable to be ignored.

_Marry me_. Two little words that had just turned his world upside down. He could understand her flawless reasoning, of course. By marrying her she would become his family, thus ensuring that his sentence of house arrest was really only that, and not a forced stay in Azkaban, but why would she subject herself to carrying his name for five years? More importantly, why would she subject herself to the mandatory wedding night with him? Surely he couldn't be considered that good of a friend, worthy of such sacrifice.

"Miss Granger—"

"Please let me do this. Please. Don't let them win; I promise I will be much more bearable company than the Dementors, _please_. I can already see a speech coming about you not wanting anyone's pity, but it isn't pity, it's just me helping a friend. I'll never forgive myself if I fail to convince you."

It was something in the way she said it that gave him pause. He believed her. He believed her when she called him a friend, but, most importantly, he believed her when she said she would never forgive herself. If he happened to die, or go mad in Azkaban, she would torture herself with the absurd notion that it had been _her_ fault for not having managed to persuade him.

"What about Mr. Weasley?" he asked cautiously, barely believing he was considering the idea.

"Ron and I split up a year ago. All of his faults that I can overlook as a friend I couldn't stand as a lover, and he felt the same way about mine."

"Nevertheless, he is your friend, as is Mr. Potter. Did you bother to inform them of this ill-devised plan? Have you the notion of what would happen to your vaunted 'friendship' if I accepted your proposal?"

"No, I didn't tell them, and yes, I know exactly what would happen, better than you do. They would be incredulous and angry for the whole of six months before giving in to common sense. You did save both their lives, even Harry can't deny that. And no one can deny the evidence left behind by Professor Dumbledore, which is why the Wizengamot has concocted this sham of a sentence rather than just giving you the Kiss. _Please_."

"If I... If I were to accept this... marriage, we would have to establish the rules beforehand. Have you... Do you... Are you aware of what a wizarding marriage requires in order for it to be legal?"

"Consummation on the wedding night, and that it is celebrated by an authorised representative of the Ministry." She seemed to be reading a textbook. "The Auror in charge of this section is accredited to celebrate weddings; I verified that."

"And are you aware that, for your plan to work, you would have to wait until the end of my sentence to divorce me?"

"I am."

"If I were to marry you, Miss Granger, I would of course refrain from touching you other than during our wedding night, but I would insist that you be the epitome of discretion when taking on a lover. This would mean that you would not be able to be seen in public with any such young man for the next five years. Are you willing to risk finding 'True Love' and asking it to wait for you to acknowledge it publicly? Because, let me assure you, I will not become laughing stock. If your dalliances are made public, I _will_ divorce you, even if I am sent here the following minute."

"You have my word that no one will ever know if I happen to meet someone. If I find 'True Love', as you put it, it will wait for me to let it out in the open for as long as it takes. That's why they call it 'True'."

The whole conversation seemed surreal. Severus was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he was likely marrying her more to spare her the guilt of not having been able to save him than to actually save himself. He let go of her hands and took hold of her face, looking into her eyes.

"And have you the fortitude to endure me this first night... Hermione?"

"Yes," she breathed. He swallowed hard.

"Then I accept your generous proposal. I need to know what you expect of me, though."

She frowned. "What I expect of you?"

"Tonight. Do you want me to... attempt to make it enjoyable, or shall I strive for speed?"

It must have been the effect of the Dementors, because, had he been so careless with displays of emotion during the Dark Lord's reign, he would surely be dead by now. He blushed. She blushed in tandem.

"If... If that's okay with you, I would be more comfortable if you would let me take the lead."

"Very well, Hermione." As an afterthought he added, "You are aware that the only house I have to offer you is a dismal place?"

"I thought we might live in my flat in London, if you wouldn't mind."

No, he definitely wouldn't mind. He had nothing but bad memories of Spinner's End; anywhere was a better choice of place to spend five years cooped up in. Anywhere but Azkaban, of course.

---

She had left his cell to go fetch the Auror then and, after having been scanned for any coercing elements such as potions or spells, had been cleared for the wedding. It was standard procedure when one was marrying a prisoner.

She then requested she be allowed to take her Contraceptive Potion, which had been left with the guard at the entrance to the fortress; if he thought it strange that she downed two bottles of differently coloured liquids, he didn't mention it.

Severus Snape was many things, but, while he hadn't been attractive before, he was positively cadaveric now. She hadn't wanted to hurt his feelings by being unable to pretend that night was anything other than a huge sacrifice on her part, so she had brewed a mild lust potion tuned in to his magical signature, but had waited until after the mandatory scan to be able to take it. It wasn't so strong that she would jump him the moment they were alone – he would surely know something was amiss then – but it was strong enough so that she would want him badly, and to ensure she would both give and take pleasure.

The wedding was over in fifteen minutes, with a further twenty-minute wait for the necessary papers to be flooed in from the Ministry. Severus had requested that a batch of more thorough cleansing spells be performed on him, as was the privilege of any prisoner on his wedding day. He was determined to make the whole affair as little unpleasant as it needed to be for Hermione. The Auror in charge drew the line, however, at cleaning his cell; it was not mandatory that he do so, and Severus had neither the connections nor the funds required to ask such a favour. He had to resign himself to taking her in a dirty, damp, dark cell. The three Ds indeed, he thought bitterly.

After the ceremony they were informed that, upon consummation of the marriage, validation of their papers would automatically appear at the Ministry. The Auror locked him in his cell, stating that they had three hours, and they were alone.


End file.
